


A First Press of Olives

by KataChthonia



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology, Hellenistic Religion & Lore
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Receiver of Many Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 17:57:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17750741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KataChthonia/pseuds/KataChthonia
Summary: Set one year after Destroyer of Light."I am more comfortable with you than I am with myself and I trust you implicitly. We said we wanted to know each other in every way possible, did we not?"





	A First Press of Olives

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Early Valentines Day! In lieu of posting a new chapter of The Good Counselor this week, I'm putting A First Press of Olives back up on AO3! The Good Counselor returns next week, Wednesday February 20 at Midnight PST.

Elysion’s lush trees and groves, its cool lakes and streams spread before her, and Persephone had spent the afternoon learning them all. Their newly created Paradise had swelled with souls in the past year— those who had recently arrived, but mostly the ones found worthy in Asphodel.  Her husband, Hades Aidoneus Chthonios, the Lord of the Underworld, had taken it upon himself to glean the worthy shades while she was above ground with her mother, Demeter. When she returned, the Queen joined her King in the throne room for each judgment.

It was exhausting work.

Yesterday afternoon, in the middle of hearing the case made by a mother of five who had died rescuing her niece from a mill fire, Persephone had wearily slumped onto his shoulder and collapsed into exhausted sleep.  Hades had judged souls for aeons— Persephone only for a year or so. Aidoneus had carried her back to their room and laid her on the bed— despite her languid and slurred protestations— tucked her in, and went back downstairs to see another round of souls from Asphodel.

Today was to be a rare and restful day for her; one her husband insisted she take, and Persephone used it to walk the seemingly endless expanse of the Elysian Fields.  She stopped under the low canopy of a tree. Her fingers paused on the serrated ridges of a leaf, feeling the life pulsing through it. They wandered up the stem and then the branch. Persephone closed her eyes, her soft skin skimming over the rough bark, then the smooth globe of one of its fruits and the indentation on its underside where a flower once grew before that fruit swelled with new life.  A lark twittered, and then flew past her to join its mate. She closed her fingers around the apple and tugged. When it snapped and released the fruit, a strong hand captured her wrist from behind.

“I thought I might find you here.” His baritone voice startled her.

“You thought?” She tittered and leaned back into him.  Aidoneus always knew where she was. Just as she always knew exactly where her other half was.

“I  _ thought _ ,” he answered back.  Aidon brushed the inside of her arm, causing a shiver to run up her spine. “Because, I know my wife would never just stay in bed and rest when I’ve implored her to do so.”

“This is restful,” she protested. He smirked his response and she turned to face him. “Honestly, Aidoneus, it is. The trees and meadows remind me of…”

She hesitated saying ‘home’.  In many ways both her husband’s palace by the Styx and her mother’s temple complex at Eleusis were home to her. But nothing felt so much like home as the Elysian Fields that Hades and Persephone had created together during the great rite of  _ hieros gamos _ .  He knew her thoughts and stroked her cheek, smiling down at her.

“These are still a rarity in Attica.” Persephone held up the apple for his inspection.  “One day, I want to visit all the continents of the earth, see what grows there, and put one of each fruit-bearing tree in Elysion.”

He turned the unfamiliar fruit over in his hands and took a bite, pleasantly surprised at the tartness of the fruit and the crisp, wet texture. “A task you will similarly exhaust yourself with, my love.”

She cast her eyes down, thinking about how hard she fought fatigue while presiding over the multitudes of Asphodel.   The rulers of Chthonia had bent and broken the rules of their own realm, allowing each shade to drink from the Mnemosyne to temporarily restore their life stories and voices.  The effects of the Pool of Memory took some time to wear off, and those who were not yet ready to enter Paradise pleaded incessantly to be let in. She could hear their cries, see their tears, mourned each one of them, but knew that they would have more chances to reside in Elysion. “You worry about me always, husband. You always think I take on too much.”

“Because you do, Persephone, by right of who you are. You are the Queen of the Dead, and also responsible for Spring— the return of life to the earth above.” He held her closer and wrinkled his brow. “I put too much on you, sweet one.  You work so very hard when you’re above, and I wanted to let our kingdom be a haven for you— a respite. But the last time I sent you back to your mother and the sunlit world, you were more exhausted than when you arrived.”

“You’re able to do this without exhausting yourself.” She worried her lower lip.   “What is the matter with me that I cannot?”

“Nothing,” he said, handing her the apple. He loved watching her eat fruit from the Elysian Fields. He loved the way her lips pressed against the skin and the way her eyes closed as she savored each morsel.  “You are wonderful, fair and just. You proved it since the first.”

“Perhaps.  But my first charge escaped.”  Persephone recalled her first day in the throne room; handing down judgment to Sisyphus, of condemning him to Tartarus by turning his words and deeds back upon himself. 

“We know why he did.  And it will never happen again.  Your coming and going makes it so.”  Hades drew in a breath, recalling his wife’s final fiery triumph over the wicked mortal king.  But his thoughts quickly drew back to when he and Persephone first sat side by side as King and Queen reigning in judgment over the mortals.  A delightful shiver raced through him when he recalled Persephone clearing the room and him pulling both of them down onto his throne. He clenched his jaw, his eyes riveted to Persephone.  Her closeness now fanned the flames and his mind became a tumult, racing from memory to longing. He pushed those desires to the back of his brain, nervous to even mention the thoughts that had surfaced, then cleared his throat and paced away from her.  He stopped just beyond the overhanging branches of the tree. “Ah, how are your lessons with Minos?”

“Well,” she said, cocking an eyebrow at him as he shifted from foot to foot and folded his hands behind his back.  Her husband’s entire body hummed with arousal and anxious energy. “His ancient language is not as easy to learn as the one spoken throughout Hellas, there are many hieroglyphics, but…”

Avoidance wasn’t like him.  When he wanted her he made it known to her, and though he often held himself back from abandoning all control and losing himself, she delighted in his honesty and passion.  Persephone padded through the grass and placed a hand on his back, circling him.

Aidon thinned his lips and looked at the ground.  He should have known. There wasn’t anything he could keep from her.

_ But that’s not what you want to ask me _ , she said him through thought,  _ is it? _  Persephone stared up at him with her wide blue gray eyes, a mischievous half smile on her face as his unspoken want sparked a wealth of fascinating ideas and echoes of the very desires she’d longed to discuss with him.  Persephone picked over his thoughts. “I believe that… other things… from the day of our first judgment that remain unfulfilled are what you—”

“I can’t ask that of you right now,” he said, his face reddening.

“Why not?”

“It’s poor timing.  You’re weary.”

“I’m not  _ weary _ , Aidon.  And you certainly didn’t think I was too exhausted for our usual pleasures when you came back to our room last night.”  She flitted around his body, her fingertips dancing along his waist, then she rested her head on his back and wrapped her arms around his chest.

“I worried to even bring it up to you.  I fear I pressed you to say what I wanted to hear that day.”

“To say that we both want to know all of each other?”

“You know what I mean.”

“My love,” she said, “We can read each other’s thoughts and feelings with perfect openness.  We journeyed through and within each other during the  _ hieros gamos _ .  We experienced the past, the future, the cosmos itself on its grandest scale with our souls entwined, and we created Elysion itself as omnipotent Halves of one great Whole.  And you’re worried about asking me if I want to explore every facet of each other on  _ this _ plane of existence?”

“I don’t want to hurt you.  If we do… explore… I want it to be as pleasurable for you as I can make it.”

“It can be, if…” Persephone fidgeted and a blush spread across her face and bosom.  “Aidon, I… I spoke with Hypnos.” He spun around and was about to protest and admonish until she raised her finger.  “Before you say anything, didn’t you once tell me that you sought out his brother for advice of a certain nature regarding  _ me _ ?”

“That was a long time ago.”

“Not  _ so _ long ago, though.  And judging by the results of your conversation with Thanatos, I know it to be a good thing.”

He gleaned her thoughts and curiously found a clear vision of a  _ kantharos _ cup filled with a first pressing of olive oil sitting next to the hearth in their bedroom.  He raised his eyebrows. “You’re sure about this?”

“Yes. Do you trust me?”

“‘Do  _ you _ trust  _ me _ ’, should be the real question,” he scoffed.  “You’re the one who stands to be harmed by my lack of experience.”

“I have none to speak of either, but I have an inkling of how we should go about it.  And I believe you do too.” She traced her fingers over his bearded jaw line and tilted her head up.  His lips hesitantly met hers and she drew him into a kiss. His anxiety shattered when her tongue traced over his lips, seeking entry.  Aidon relaxed and gathered her into an embrace as Persephone whispered against his lips. “‘With careful preparation.’ Wasn’t that what you said?” She repeated his words against his ear, kissing him at his temple. “In our room, ‘when we are both relaxed’ you told me, ‘and able to go slowly’.”

His pupils dilated and darkened and he pulled at her earlobe with his lips before matching her low voice.  “The last thing I imagined was you seducing  _ me _ into this.”

“And judging from our history, I think that your expectations are often exceeded by the outcome, Aidoneus.”  She wiggled against him and delighted in his strained expression.

He groaned and pulled her closer. His body responded to hers, his groin warm and hardening against her abdomen, his want made explicit when he ground against her. He tightened his limbs around her frame and dove in for a deeper kiss, sucking on each of her lips and mating his tongue with hers.  Aidon broke the kiss and held back, teasing her, letting her pull closer to him with a whimper. “I suppose we’ll have to see where this takes us…”

“Then there’s only one place to go,” she said.

Fire bloomed into a twisting gyre as she opened a pathway through the ether behind her, then she stepped backwards, yanking him by the front of his tunic.  Vertigo gripped Aidoneus and his eyes grew wide as he was pulled, falling forward. He landed on top of Persephone and instantly propped himself up on his wrists with his giggling wife beneath him, her legs on either side of his waist and her hair tousled from landing on the mattress.  It took a moment to realize that she had taken them from Elysion straight to their bed. He joined in her laughter then set to work loosening the ribbon holding her hair into a chignon. “We’ve never done  _ that _ before…”

“Hopefully not the only new thing we’ll try.”

He fitted his body over hers and kissed her, unwrapping the last of her hair and fanning it out on the pillow behind her.  She tugged at his himation, pulling it from his shoulder. He took over her movements and pushed it to the side of the bed until it fell into a heap on the floor.  Her girdle came next, the jewels clinking together, and the fibulae holding up her peplos and his tunic soon joined it.

In their two years of marriage, they had settled into a comfortable familiarity in bed.  A routine had developed— one that pleased them both greatly. Every night she spent with him during winter, they would undress each other, piece by piece, their clothes piled up on the left side of the bed.  He would ensure that she reached her pleasure before he entered her. Variety was had in a graceful dance and twist of positions— some favored more than others— before they would collapse into euphoric afterglow then sound sleep in each other arms.  When they awoke, they would often reprise their love and desire before starting their day. They made love, they coupled, they fucked, but always with her supple channel grasping at his phallus, the tip touching the mouth of her womb. Several nights ago, he had pressed his thumb against the puckered gateway of her untried passage while he was expertly tonguing her folds.  The experience had her clenching her thighs tightly against his ears and bowing her back so violently that she’d sat upright and screamed her pleasure. But he hadn’t dared to take it any further than that.

Tonight she wanted to explore what made her react so intensely.

Persephone untied his belt and freed Aidoneus of his tunic. He casually balled up her peplos and threw it aside.  She delighted in the feeling of skin on skin, an electric closeness that portended all the greater things to come.  His kisses were ravenous and his glans butted up against her vulva, his body at war with his mind’s desire to go slowly.  He desperately wanted her. Persephone pressed a hand to his chest. He paused, reveling in the sensation of her inner lips fluttering against the head of his cock, her entrance kissing the tip, her body itself belying her words.

“We should relax first.”

“I can’t think of anything that will relax me faster than fucking you, sweet one,” Aidon purred.  To make his point he pushed forward a fraction of an inch, and their breath caught in their throats. His control was slipping.

She licked her lips and tried not to meet his incremental penetration or squeeze around him.  It would end his willpower and she would be all too happy to be swept away with it. “I think we should try putting what I learned to use, instead.”

Aidoneus withdrew completely and swallowed the sizable lump in his throat. “That’s not wise, my love. I want you too much right now, if you couldn’t tell. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Then you need to lie back,” she said, slithering out from underneath him, “and trust me, Aidon.”

She stood up from the bed and glanced over her shoulder at him.  Aidon’s fingers clenched on the sheets, wanting to grab her by the waist and pull her back under him, to plunge into her warm wet depths with animalistic fervor until they shattered in each other’s arms.  Persephone pulled back the curtain of their bed to reveal their room and walked to the glowing hearth fire. Upon its ledge sat a bronze tray and the wide  _ kantharos  _ from her mind’s eye.  Aidon lay on his back watching her.  “You planned this, didn’t you?”

“I may have,” she said with a smile.  “Not for it to go exactly this way, but I certainly left this here for us before I went to Elysion this morning. I planned to at least discuss it with you tonight.”  Persephone was giddy to uncover his desires when he found her under the apple tree, to know that this forbidden need consumed his thoughts as it had hers.

Persephone picked up the tray and walked back toward the bed, her skin glowing in the firelight, the tray resting in her hands.  Aidon licked his lips and watched her intently, her slow pace like that of some heathen priestess bearing an offering to the altar where he was stretched out in sacrifice.

She set it down on the sheets a ways away from them and Aidon caught a glimpse of the viscous shimmer of olive oil within the cup.  Persephone crawled over him and straddled his stomach, the scent of flowers rising from her body. He looked up at her and ran his hand up her thigh then her belly and ribs to cup and mold a breast.  His thumb passed over the taut peak and he spoke, his voice hoarse. “I suppose you want me to follow your lead, but I’m not sure where you’re going.”

“Then you’ll have to lie back and trust me,” she whispered.  Persephone took his hand in hers and gently set it at her side before leaning down to peck a kiss on the tip of his nose.  She dipped her fingers in the oil and rubbed her hands together to warm it, then spread her palms outward across his shoulders, rolling and smoothing the muscles underneath as her hands trailed down his biceps.  He let out a contented sigh, feeling relaxed and slumberous when she took his hand within hers and massaged his palm and fingers. She repeated with his other hand, then gathered more oil on her fingers and started anew at his neck, meandering down his hard chest.  When her ring finger traced over a flat nipple, his stomach clenched and his cock leapt behind her. It haphazardly smacked against her rear, unintentional and erotic.

She smiled at him wickedly and drew quick circles around each peak with the oil, then leaned down to spiral her tongue around one while pinching its mate.  Persephone rose and scooted down his body until she rested between his knees and stared up into his lidded eyes. She slicked her hands with a bit more oil and let a few drops fall on his stomach as her hands came to rest on either side of his hard organ.  She brought her palms together around the base and squeezed up its length, drawing a groan from him.

Aidon shut his eyes and sank back into the mattress and pillows.  His wife’s hands passed over the sensitive head and a finger pressed against the underside of the crown and trailed down as the other hand came up from the base, each cycle repeating itself until he couldn’t tell if she was stroking up or down his length, or if the slickness of her fingers was the oil or traces of his own welled up desire.  All Aidoneus knew was that it felt incredible and her motions arched his back from the bed. The attention paid to his cock ceased suddenly and he writhed with unfulfilled want. “Oh, sweet one…”

“Lift your hips,” she said.  He did so and she placed a pillow under his flanks so he was propped up, lifting his groin higher.  He raised his knees and Persephone pushed his legs further apart. Following her lead, he spread his thighs and she crouched between them, running slick hands down the insides and massaging them until he relaxed again.  His breath came in short bursts when she returned her attentions to his throbbing organ and shivered as more oil dripped down the shaft and onto the heavy sac hanging beneath. She caressed his cock with long strokes and cupped her other hand under the weight of his testicles.  A drop of oil meandered down his perineum, and another joined it, collecting lower. Her hand closed lightly around his scrotum and she heard him moan softly, his thighs twitching on either side of her body.

Ever so slowly, she lowered her lips to the tip of his cock and darted her tongue to taste the oil and a large drop of his essence.  He hissed. One hand rested at the base as her lips closed around the tip and the fingers that had been toying with his jewels descended to follow the drops of oil that had fallen.  When she pressed a finger into the smooth skin of his perineum, he stopped breathing and lay still. She paused with him.

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course I do.”  She had never touched him there deliberately, and Aidon recalled when he had pressed his thumb to her own smooth bridge of skin and then her anus while he supped on her earlier that week.  “I think I gave you this idea,” he said, with a half-smile. “Didn’t I?”

“You did.”  Persephone demurred, then squeezed his shaft idly, feeling the blood pump through him.  She blushed and flitted her eyes away from his intense gaze. “I… was told that there is a place inside a man… much like the place inside a woman.”  She knew she was asking for a lot. Their society held few sexual taboos, but one poignant rule was that powerful men demonstrated their virility in the bedroom by penetrating others— and not by being penetrated in any fashion.  And her husband was one of the three most powerful beings in all of creation. Perhaps she’d gone too far; crossed an invisible line. “Husband, if you aren’t comfortable with this, with me—”

“Sweet one,” Aidon said softly and brushed a lock of hair back from her face, dispelling all her fears with one caress.  “I am more comfortable with you than I am with myself and I trust you implicitly. We said we wanted to know each other in every way possible, did we not?”

“Yes,” she said, returning his smile.

“Then let us do so,” he said, settling back.  “This is between you and I. And I am yours, wife.”

Her smile lit up her face and she flicked her loving gaze at him before returning her attention to her task.  Persephone stroked his shaft and his hips rose, his legs part further. She closed her eyes and closed her mouth again over the head, the grip of her fingers working in time with her lips and tongue.  Her other hand reached for a generous palmful of oil which she drizzled onto his scrotum and smoothed down the small bridge of flesh underneath it until she came to his opening. He groaned at her touch and she moved her fingers in a slow circle, softening the tight hole with warm oil and the pads of her fingers.  Aidon thrashed as she pressed down and drew back to circle the gate and relax his entrance. She sucked at him and licked the underside of his shaft, feeling him sink into the mattress and loosen for her exploration.

He sighed and in that moment she pushed forward ever so slowly, her finger coated slick to ease her entry into his passage.  A groan cracked in his throat when she delved deeper, her digit slipping beyond the outer ring of his anus and meeting gentle resistance on the other side.  She wiggled her finger to spread the oil and he gasped, his mind utterly transported, his conscious thoughts incoherent, his responses orchestrated by her touch.

She licked a circle around the rim of his cockhead, and the ring clenched around her finger. He moaned again.  Persephone pushed, slowly, patiently, until her digit was buried within him, and she marveled at how scalding hot his interior was, how his muscles spasmed uncontrollably around her invading finger.  Her other hand cupped his sac and she descended again, taking his pulsing cock into her mouth.

The tip touched the back of her throat and Aidon shook, his body alight with new sensations.  She sucked up on the withdrawal and descended again, his entrance clenching hard on her finger.  Persephone remembered the ways he gave her pleasure with his hand and slowly curled her finger upward, meeting a soft resistance on the other side.

“Fuck,” he cursed in pleasure, his breath hissing.  He trembled like a leaf and dew beaded on his forehead.  Aidon closed his eyes and pleasure radiated out from the place she stroked inside, the place he was not even aware existed, which turned all he perceived into a shifting vertigo of pleasure.

His sac tightened against her hand, drawing closer, and his shaft swelled and grew hotter against her lips. Persephone curled her finger again, beckoning him in pleasure in perfect rhythm with her mouth, her hands, her throat…

“Oh gods,” he moaned roughly.  “Persephone, I’m… I… I…” He bowed his back and light crackled behind his eyes.

Aidon’s hands flew to her head and his fingers threaded into her hair.  He roared, bucking his hips and filling her mouth with ropes of his seed, thrusting erratically beyond her lips.  She swallowed his essence with a moan, gratified by his display of raw pleasure as he abandoned all care, all pretenses, swept away by the sensations she brought forth.  His entrance clenched wildly around her finger as he came down, his limbs resting at last, splayed on the sheets.

She carefully withdrew from him and crept up the length of the bed to lie next to her husband.  Aidoneus was insensate. Persephone looked him over, his body covered with a thin sheen of perspiration and olive oil as his breathing regained some rhythm.  An accomplished smirk graced her features. “Well?”

“Fates, I’ve never felt so—” he stopped and looked at her, his face filled with worry.  “Are you alright? I completely forgot myself when I… I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No, you didn’t hurt me, my love.  I adored your reaction. Speaking of,” she said rolling onto her side, “how  _ did _ that feel?”

He whistled low and ran his hands through his hair. “Different. Fantastic, but different. Usually at my climax the sensations come directly from  _ here _ ,” he said, lifting the head of his spent cock.  “But this… it started from within and spread outward… spread everywhere.”

“Do you feel less apprehension now about… reciprocating?”

Before she could react, Aidoneus reached for Persephone’s waist and rolled her onto her back. He lay atop her, his long hair falling around them like a curtain and smiled broadly. “Certainly.”

“You’ll go slowly?”  Her voice shook at what she’d awoken within him.

“It’s impossible for me not to.  I’m surprised I can still  _ move _ after what you did to me.” She laughed and he pulled away from her to prop her up on a second pillow, raising her hips into the air and opening her thighs.  Laughter ceased. His smile faded and his eyes darkened with lust at what lay before him. “It seems you enjoyed that as much as I did,” he muttered, swiping a finger through her swollen, glistening folds.

“I did…”  She shivered at his cool touch and her areola tightened into hardened peaks.  Her pert breasts caught his attention and he dipped his finger experimentally in the  _ kantharos _ of oil beside them.  He mimicked her, coating his fingers and rubbing his palms together as she had to warm it.  His hands went straight to her breasts, lifting them from underneath to squeeze the ivory mounds of flesh, pushing them together, circling them, pulling and pinching at her dusky nipples with gentle fingers. He loved the way they glistened with olive oil, reminding him of her arousal. He spread more oil across her stomach and hips, touching every inch of her skin, working it in, smoothing his hands all the way to her thighs and calves, then the soles of her feet.

He pushed his thick fingers into the spaces between her toes and she winced at the stretching before relaxing in pleasure, her tendons and muscles loosened enough for him to massage her feet from toe to heel. His strong hands gripped one ankle and kneaded the length of her calf and thigh before he set about to work on the other.  Her head lolled to the side. She sighed, closing her eyes, her arms and shoulders sinking heavily as he methodically slackened the tension in her body.

Aidon splayed his hands along her hips and waist, rolling them over skin and muscle until they again rested on her breasts. He circled the softened tips slowly, raising them into tense peaks. Aidon moved over her and drew one into his mouth, tasting the warmth of the oil, then the sweetness of the flesh underneath. He alternated, pulling one peak to a stiff long point with thumb and forefinger as his tongue lashed at the other, then switched to sample its mate. By the time he was done, his wife was breathing raggedly beneath him, her eyes dilated and her chest rising and falling.

He licked a meandering trail down her stomach, pausing to dip into the well of her navel, then over the thatch of hair covering her mound. Aidon petted her lips without any oil, not wanting his wife’s natural taste adulterated by a first press of olives. He wanted fruit, and honey, and salt.

His tongue followed the gentle stroke of his fingers, flattening as it swept over her folds, spearing when he delved inside to taste the nectar that had pooled at her opening.  Her voice broke from her throat, and he swiped up again, slowly circling her bud with long, careful strokes. He waited until she was breathing hard and her legs shook against either side of his head.

“Turn over,” he whispered, his words a sultry heat against her aching flesh.  She opened her eyes and languidly obeyed. Before she could settle on her stomach, he grabbed another pillow and pushed it under her, propping her up so high that she had to put the rest of her weight on her knees. Persephone gathered another soft pillow under her head for balance.  Her back arched up, her sex protruded from between her legs and cool air nipped at her inflamed flesh.

“What are you—”

“Shh…”  He hushed her and took in the view. Her fleshy outer lips were ripe and swollen, barely concealing the wet, pink ripples of her folds and the little hood that shielded her clitoris.  Aidon dipped down, and she sighed in relief as his hot breath fanned across her labia. He speared his tongue pressing it against the taut source of her pleasure. She hissed and mewled in frustration when he backed away and sat up again, looking her over.  Her bottom wiggled in the air and her thighs parted wider to encourage him to return to her tender nub. In doing so, she exposed the puckered entrance that was his ultimate goal— in her prone position, the little star crowning her delicious sex. The wanton scene before him sent a jolt straight to his loins.

Aidon delicately cupped her vulva with one hand. A knuckle ran down the seam and his middle finger unfurled to nestle into her enveloping folds.  The digit flexed torturously over her aching bud. He responded as she responded, stilling every time she writhed or ground into his hand for more, and Persephone whimpered, held helplessly at the plateau of pleasure.

With his left hand intimately cupping her, he concentrated the other on the rounded curves of her rear, spreading a light sheen of oil across each cheek. He squeezed at the broad muscles underneath.  She was still so tense, and leaned too much on her knees. He rubbed in a wide circle and patted at the glistening skin experimentally, feeling it heat up every time his hand met her rump. Persephone looked back at him curiously, her eyes half lidded.

Aidon brought his right hand back and swatted her rear.  Her startled body ground her sex into his palm and he stroked her with soft caresses, her pained cry resolving into a moan.  Instead of lifting away and letting the air cool the sting, he gripped and pressed the heat of it back into her, listening to her punctuated moans.  His right hand landed again, pushing her forward with a cry and allowing no escape from the encroaching heat. His finger circled, calming her, transforming pain into pleasure.

A dull smack pelted her other cheek, the skin underneath his hand blossoming with fire.  Again he stroked her aching sex, and again he kneaded the flesh of her rear until it softened in his hands.  He repeated the smack and she melted under his splayed fingers. Aidon massaged through the throbbing skin and deep tissue below. She sank onto the pillows and surrendered to him.  Her eyes remained shut and her breath came in ragged, shallow bursts against the sheets. Aidoneus knit his brow. “Persephone, did I—”

“No,” she answered with a harsh whisper, silencing his worries before he could voice them.  It wasn’t the first time he’d ever spanked her, but when he had, it had been done playfully after coupling.  This was the first time he’d used the force of his open hand in the midst of their pleasure to goad her on, to keep her heat rising.  The palm wet with her juices had stilled, and she greedily pushed back against it. “Aidon, please… please…”

Her whispered entreaties made the corner of his mouth twitch into a grin.  He lifted his palm from her vulva and came down to eye level with her sex. Aidon leaned his head to the side, kissing the full lips, taking in her scent and feeling the heat of her against his mouth.  He circled her with his tongue then doubled back and forth through her folds, pausing to spear into her vaginal entrance before continuing on his path.

His heart beat out of his chest.  He stood on the brink of unexplored territory and that knowledge sparked something deep within him.  Persephone fisted the sheets in her hands and muffled her moan in the pillow when his lips reached the smooth rise of skin between her entrances.  He rose along her seam and pulled her cheeks further apart, twirling his tongue along the puckered rim. She shook and shrieked with delight at the new sensation, and Aidon held his wife steady as he lathed the dark entrance before pulling back and reaching for a cupped handful of oil.

He followed the trail his tongue had made with the slick liquid and massaged the silken ridges with his fingertip.  She contracted and softened at his ministrations, then swirled closer, closer to his goal. With his smallest finger coated with olive oil, she at last opened to him. The outer ring clenched around his invasion and his loins tightened, imagining that constricting ring and blinding hot chasm swallowing his engorged cock.

His brow furrowed. He knew his organ was a great deal thicker than his solitary finger, and the desire that overrode all else was his unwillingness to hurt her. She had taken great care while pleasuring him and he lighted on a way to do the same.  His other hand settled immediately on her vulva and she loosened. He pushed inside her vagina with one finger and searched for the spongy ridges within. She wriggled, grinding between the thrust of each finger, one buried in her rectum, the other strumming the secret spot within her womanhood.  His thumb rocked back and forth across her clitoris, sending sparks through her.

He released his little finger from her tight passage and saturated his index and middle finger with oil before returning. With his other hand, one finger joined the other already stroking the ridges within her channel. He steadily pushed in and out at the same time as two digits nudged at the back entrance.

“Aidon… Oh gods, Aidon…” He slowly worked one finger, then both in to her dark recesses, hearing her groan and repeat his name over and over against the pillow. At last they drove through, her depths clenching all around him, his knuckles now sliding past each other through the thin membrane that separated her passages.

He leaned over her, his hardened cock rubbing her thigh and giving him some relief when it touched her.  “How does that feel?”

“S-so good,” she slurred.  He kissed her at the indent of her waist, then concentrated on the motion of his hands.

He worked them in tandem with each other, giving her no respite.  As two fingers pushed into her womanhood, the two stretching her untried passage withdrew part way. As they re-entered, he pulled the sopping digits from her channel.  Persephone was caught in the maelstrom of an endless cycle of penetration and withdrawal, neither ceasing, always filling, accompanied by the thumb pressed to her clitoris. She drifted on waves of pleasure and didn’t care that she was practically howling as she grew closer.  Her body wasn’t under her control anymore— it was his, his to have, his to claim, his to fill, and her ultimate surrender sent her hurtling over the edge, screaming her husband’s name, coating his hand anew in her nectar.

His fingers were squeezed tightly, crushed together, and he steadied her, leaning into her and over her as she bucked and thrashed underneath him.  A final high-pitched cry ushered from her throat, then her body went limp. Her hair stuck to her back with a mixture of oil and ardor and she could only form one coherent, whispered sentence. “Please… please, I need you inside me.”

He took care withdrawing both sets of fingers from her, then at the last moment took another cupped palmful of oil and slid a trail down between his fingers to fill and slick her insides. When his hand met his neglected cock to coat it and ease his entry he gasped, feeling the blood pounding through him as he slicked over head and shaft and foreskin, preparing himself for her.

She lay still, anticipating, and the combination of earth-shattering climax and continued wanting started to make her legs shake anew.  His urgency had been tempered by his earlier orgasm, but his voice betrayed his desperate need to be within her— to break new ground and claim this last part of her.  “I love you, Persephone. You’ll tell me if—”

“Yes.  I’ll tell you.”  She wearily opened her eyes and gazed back at him.  “I’m ready.”

He looked down, his shaft held in one hand, his other rubbing a last coat of oil across the slackened entrance, the orifice opened and spasming from taut pleasure and careful preparation.  He leaned forward, feeling another upwelling of his essence slick the head as it pressed against her, then into her. Ever so slowly, the tip passed the barrier.

It met resistance, and he steadied himself, willing himself to calm and be staid, despite the overwhelming desire to be within her all at once.  She gasped as the head made contact with the inner ring, and tried to calm and accept the mass of him entering her. Persephone winced, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Sweet one?”  He ground out.

“I’m alright.”

“We can stop…”

“No…” She said between sharp breaths.  “Don’t. Not now.”

Aidon let her adjust and the spasm of muscles around the head of his cock subsided. He pressed forward again, this time glacially slow.  The air filling his lungs hissed in and out between clenched teeth, and he shook, his whole being concentrated on taking her as gently as possible.  But he met with such great resistance as he slowly drove into her that he wavered between pressing on or ending their experiment with at least the satisfaction of trying.  He was perhaps too large, or she was too small, and they would have to be content with that. Aidon looked down at his wife’s face. She was so tense, her breath so shallow.

Every nerve he touched flamed to life, and the heady sensations made Persephone dizzy.  She tried to relax and stop resisting, and then discovered something peculiar and wonderful.  When she pushed back, it sent him deeper with less friction, and she took more of him in. The hidden secret of this pleasure lay in resistance— of meeting him equally.  This was not, could not be an act of submission, and it only worked if she gave as he gave. She tried pushing back again and was sublimely rewarded. Pleasure bloomed all around the thickness of his cock entering her, a ring of fire warming her and spreading its light and heat throughout her being.  She was so sensitive there that she could feel his pulse, his very heartbeat echoing inside her, carried through the heavy column of flesh and the vein that ran up its side.

He exhaled, feeling her clench around his cock— not in painful resistance but by drawing him in with the motions of her body— then the low, guttural moans from both that accompanied their joining.  He pushed forward, ever slowly, ever gently, letting her stretch to accommodate his length, his girth, then stopped, realizing that he was at the hilt. His chest grazed her back and he leaned down close to her ear.

“Persephone…”  Her name came out within a sharp moan and he considered asking her again if she were alright, if she hurt, if… if… but he could tell from the waves and heat and softness and tension enclosing and encircling his shaft that she cherished this act as much as he did.  Pain existed simply because of the nature of the act, but it hovered just beyond the borders of her pleasure. She contracted and expanded, fluttered around him in every direction. He closed his eyes, blissful and triumphant in the realization that he was buried within the last untouched place she had to offer, his pleasure held in taut vibration by the incredible pressure.  “Persephone…” Aidon repeated her name and smiled. “Oh my love, you feel incredible.”

She shook, her body drifting on a sea of pleasure eclipsing pain, the corona of her passage stretched around him the only reminder that it could have been more so. But their preparation had been lengthy, and their union exquisitely gentle.  She leaned in the direction of his voice and he surged forward, capturing her mouth and pushing even deeper. Their voices melded between their lips and he withdrew halfway with just as much care as when he entered.

Persephone’s hand flew behind her to rest on his hipbone and she stopped him, then guided him forward, telling him without words that the distance was as far as he should withdraw. He exhaled against the shell of her ear and slowly pushed back in. Her back arched below him and her elbows started weakening.  When they gave out and she fell forward, he caught her with one strong arm, encircling her in the space of another withdrawal and thrust.

Aidoneus pelted her shoulders and neck with kisses, then flattened his chest against her back and pulled her up with a hand cupping her breast.  He was forced by position and the natural resistance of her body to go slowly. The great pressure around his shaft and the ever-increasing heat closing around the head pushed him close to the brink, but he withheld and refocused with every caress of her skin. He wanted her to come again, with his cock held in her tight chasm. He wanted to know and experience this part of her— with the part of him meant only for her.  He wanted her to reach ecstasy again while he was within her.

Persephone’s head spun in euphoria, her body lax and open, the whole of her being focused on the gentle rhythm of him sliding out and driving in. Out, in, out, in, pulling her with him in each direction. It didn’t have the same feel as their normal intercourse, with the unknown ending and beginning present within and through each other, where they could lose track of the rhythm and just be— simply feel their union as one being. This was something more visceral— a pleasure that brought all attention back to the width of him and the weight of him pulling and pushing against the tightness of her entrance.  Cool air grazed the front of her quivering body and she realized that her husband had lifted her upright. She leaned forward, supported, his arms circling around her to meld her against his skin.

Aidon trailed his hand down her belly and up her thigh, then found the soaked groove of her folds and stroked up and down the crease. His other arm clamped firmly across the front of her and she leaned into it heavily, unable to stay upright on her own.

Her voice broke and she writhed, discovering that the pleasure within her, usually eased and refocused by an empty clench around nothing, rebounded in waves through the rest of her body. The light touch of her husband’s fingers contrasted powerfully with his cock evenly thrusting behind her and she cried out.  His breath was heavy in her ear, his beard scraping against her neck. Her back and his chest were covered with perspiration and traces of olive oil, the contact heightened by the slick interplay of flesh gliding against flesh. He tightened his grasp and increased his speed, comfortable within her, urging her onward, pushing her upward.  His fingers worked dark magic against the apex of her mound and his tightening sac rhythmically slapped against her aching lips. 

“Come for me.” He rasped his husky demand into her ear. His ardent voice spiked her pleasure ever higher and he felt it echo within her. “That’s it. My sweet one… my beautiful one… come.  Come, my cherished one… Let go… Fall apart with me inside you…”

Persephone crested at Aidoneus’ lustful entreaties, rising to unknown heights. Then everything broke and crashed within her.  Her ring bore down on his thickness, reverberating in waves throughout her body. Her eyes rolled back and her voice disappeared. Everything collapsed inward before exploding like a nova.  Her climax ricocheted through her being from her fingers and toes to the tips of her breasts, to the pressure around his cock, to the flood of her essence drenching his fingers.

She heard Aidon’s voice rise on the perimeter of her consciousness— his moans labored and timed with each thrust.   He expanded inside her and his hands fell hard on her hips, steadying her as he thrust to the hilt one last time. His whole body stiffened and bowed, his head thrown back and his voice, her name, carrying to the rafters. Waves of his release splashed into her, dragging the last ounces of pleasure from her.  His body shook violently as he emptied into her and Aidoneus pinned Persephone tightly against him so the erratic movement of his hips wouldn’t hurt her.

The knelt like that, their hearts fluttering wildly— his against her back, hers against his hand.  Her head lay back against his shoulder, his chin rested on her neck and all either could hear was their beloved regaining the ability to breathe.  Long moments passed.

Aidon started pulling away with excruciating care, almost as slowly as he’d first entered her. The flared head gave them resistance and Persephone moaned at the renewed flare of pleasure and small bursts of passing discomfort. He groaned when his overly sensitive penis finally left her.  Wordlessly, they crashed onto their sides, careless of the pillows, the empty cup, the tray it sat upon. He smoothed her mussed hair from her back and shoulder and pressed into her, cradling her from behind and stroking the length of her from shoulder to knee. She whimpered when he jostled her hip.

“How are you?”

She smiled, her eyes still closed.  Her voice was hoarse. “A little sore.”

“Same.”  He chuckled. “Not even approaching what you must feel, though.”

“And I’m sticky.”  She smiled and wriggled around. The olive oil was cloying against her skin.

“I have just the thing for that.”  He rose from the bed slowly, his knees still shaking. Aidoneus took the water thief with him to fill it in the rushing waterfall outside their antechamber.  The light was dimming along the Styx and evening had settled across the reaches of Chthonia. When he returned to the room he held the dripping bronze sphere toward the fire for a minute until it heated, then emptied its contents into the marble sink basin. He came back to the spent pile of limbs that was his wife and gathered her up in his arms.  “Come here; up you go.”

“I have little choice in the matter,” she giggled weakly, pulling one arm around his neck as he scooped up the back of her knees with the other. He smiled and nuzzled her, then stood with her in his arms, kissing her full on the lips, his tongue dipping and twining with hers, their mingled tastes tinged with olive oil.  She pulled back breathlessly. He brushed the tip of his nose against hers again, then gently set her down beside the hearth fire. The stone cooled her skin, making contact and drawing the excess heat from her sore cheeks and inflamed lips.

Aidoneus grabbed a sponge and ran it first across her back, dipping it in the water and scraping its rough surface along every inch of her skin.  She luxuriated against his enfolding arm, her eyes closing as his ministrations traced each of her limbs with utmost care. He stood her up to clean her thighs and his face fell when he saw the pink handprints on her rump.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“Done what?”

“Spanked you. I should always remember that…”  He cast his eyes to the floor.

She searched his thoughts as he trailed off and saw a familiar vision of them plunging through fire, her cry of pain in the dark when he claimed her as his wife. “Aidoneus, my love, you did nothing wrong.”

“After I took you from the world above, I promised myself.  I swore I would never hurt you again.”

“You didn’t.”

“What do you call  _ that _ , then?”  He traced the radial of bruises his fingertips had left on her hips.

“Aidon, look at me,” she said, cupping him at his jaw line.  “Isn’t it time you forgive yourself for the very thing I forgave not a month after you brought me here?  We both know why it needed to be done.”

He looked at her thoughtfully, but his brow furrowed again, and he averted his eyes from her searching gaze.

She brought his focus back to her.  “You didn’t hurt me. Not once in all of this, in an act that could have because,” she said, pointed looking at his groin, “well, you’re by no means small.”

He guffawed and looked away from her, embarrassed, before staring into her bright blue gray eyes.  She took the sponge from him and wrung it out in the warm water before she administered to him, brushing it over his chest and arms, his long legs.

“I admit I was curious,” she continued while she worked, “but also a little frightened by this.  I wanted it, to know  _ all _ of you as I’d said, but was so nervous I didn’t want to ask you directly.  And you were nervous, too, and you too kept silent, and I knew that you were withholding asking because you care deeply for me.”

“I only ever wanted to protect you.  And I think I try to protect you from myself, sometimes.”

“Aidon, you don't have to.  We trust each other. We love each other.  But it saddens me every time you hold back from me, and from yourself.  Tonight was one of those rare times you were able to bring down all your walls, and just let me in and  _ be with me _ .  And I loved it.”

He took her hand within his and stood her up in front of him.  “You did?”

“Of course I did.”

“Everything?”  He traced her disappearing bruises.

“All of it.  Through and through.  You promised yourself you’d never hurt me, but now I want you to promise  _ me _ something.  Can you?”

“I would give you anything.  You know that.”

“Then promise me— as I will promise you now— that we won’t ever let our fear of each other come between us again.  Or stand between the pleasure we share as husband and wife. Can you do that with me?”

He held her arms, stroking the curve of her shoulders with his thumbs, then wrapped himself around her, drawing her against his chest.  His head dipped until his nose rested atop her head. “I will. I promise.”

She closed her eyes and listened to the crackle of the fire and warmed in his arms as he rocked her to and fro.

“Promise me something in turn,” he said. “That you will care for yourself, not put the world upon your shoulders, and if anything I do causes you any harm of any kind, you will tell me?”

“I shall,” she answered.  He kissed her and breathed in the scent of her hair.  Persephone melted into him, relieved and pleasantly tired.  “Though… I think that anything else we might try will have to wait at least until tomorrow.”

His torso shook with laughter.  “That’s fine by me. Shall we turn in early to bed?”

“I had a better idea,” she said, grabbing a large, black fleece from the bed in one hand and pulling along Aidoneus with her other.  “Have you ever slept under the stars in the Elysian Fields?”

 


End file.
